Hunting and Beyond
by rhpsdeadzonefan
Summary: Better than the title makes it seem. Cameron's meth high brings about unexpected consequences. It's not what you think... Please R&R! First House fic!
1. Crystalline Green

**Author's Note and disclaimer**: Alright, so this is my first House fic and it's not a one shot, just to let you know right off the bat. And you should also probably know that I might, at least until the story gets a bit more established in some sort of direction, updates will be very sporadic. Not that I don't love you all and want to (hopefully) please you with updates, it's just that this is the first time the muse has hit me in a while. Please review, good or bad. I'd just like to know how many are reading this to decide how far I should take it. And, no, I don't own any of the characters. They belong to David Shore and Fox unfortunately for me...Because I really wanted them for my birthday. le sigh With that out of the way... Here it is...

It had been curiosity that had driven him to actually accept her invitation, a curiosity that he could never ignore. Now, standing in front of Allison Cameron's door, he wondered if this hadn't been a mistake. He could hear music blaring within, something he didn't really expect to be radiating from the place. It gave him an uneasy feeling that he simply couldn't shake. Why would she call him, of all people? He knew she was obviously going through something, with the impending doom of HIV hanging over her head now and he wasn't sure he wanted to be a part of it. Strike that. He knew he didn't want to be a part of it. He didn't do messy, emotional, touchy-feely moments. Though, judging from the techno blaring on the other side of the door, he decided she wasn't sobbing hysterically at the moment, but that wasn't to say she wouldn't be soon. Misery loved company, and what better company than someone already miserable enough for the both of them?

He knocked on the door, deciding that knocking to fill his curiosity and perhaps ending up as her shoulder to cry on wouldn't be half as bad as spending the night alone, picking apart the situation in his mind and trying to put together the puzzle with limited pieces. No, he would figure Allison Cameron's intentions for inviting him over from her.

It wasn't a moment that had passed since he knocked on the door than when she flung it open. 

"Come on in," She invited him, stepping aside so he could enter and then hurriedly closing the door behind him. He assessed her as she did this. Her hair was down and messy and her clothes were definitely not hospital attire, though not too revealing. 

"You said you--" He was cut off by Cameron pushing him against the wall and kissing his lips.

He pulled back a little, definitely not expecting that. "You're either high or this is some ploy for a promotion. It's not going to work," He gruffly said, then he got a good look at her face as she pressed her lips to his again. Yes, she was most certainly high. "Your pupils are dilated," He said, pushing her out to arm's length now. He marveled that the sweet, innocent, goody-goody that was Allison Cameron would do such a thing. "Where'd you get them? What did you take?" He asked as she maneuvered closer to him, trying to kiss him again. 

"It doesn't matter. Don't turn into a good guy on me now," She urged him, already working to remove his shirt. 

"You're high and vulnerable--" 

"Since when would that ever stop you?" Cameron breathily asked him, planting another hungry kiss on his lips as she ran her fingers through his hair. She was leading him to her bedroom and he found himself following, not able to pull his lips from hers. 

She continued to fumble with his shirt until she finally had it off him and she then proceeded to take off her own, revealing her bra, but not for long. She soon un-clasped it and flung it aside, going back to kissing him as their bare chests brushed against one another. 

He let his hands roam her bare back and then get tangled in her hair as they kissed. He'd most certainly fantasized about this moment, but did't quite expect it to be like this. Nevertheless, he'd given up fighting it..._for now_. 

Cameron began to remove her pants, letting them slide down to her ankles, showing off her underwear. She kicked the pants aside and practically pushed him onto the bed, hastily beginning to remove her companion's trousers, until a firm hand stopped her. "Don't," He said, looking into her green eyes with an almost pleading look. "Pull the blinds. Turn off the lights," He ordered her, staring at her until she complied with his demand, almost tripping over her own feet as she did so. Once the room was almost completely dark, he allowed her to continue. She took off his pants and then his boxers as they resumed their fierce line of kissing. He let his hands roam once again on her bare back, but they soon found themselves removing her lacy underwear. 

Cameron soon had him straddled on the bed as his mouth made it's way to one of her breasts. "Don't," She softly moaned, wanting to feel him inside her. She needed to feel him inside her. He looked up at her, understanding her request. They were soon interlocked as one, melting into one another as the rhythm of their song increased it's tempo. The two moved roughly together, both emitting moans resembling the other's first name. It was the first either had uttered the words to one another, but it never seemed out of place. As their climaxes came, the moans turned to screams of pleasure. Cameron collapsed against him, trying to catch her breath as he exited her. 

"Greg..." She said softly, her heart beating out of her chest. He ran his fingers through her now sweat-matted hair, but he knew instantly that something was wrong. 

"H-Ho..." She stuttered, her eyes growing wide with fear as she began to tremble. 

"Cameron?" Concern flashed in House's blue eyes as he realized something was seriously wrong with her. He checked her pulse and felt it was going way too fast. Allison Cameron was having a stroke. Greg managed to get her onto her side just as she started to seize.


	2. Snark and Snarkabilities

"Differential diagnosis people!" House said, already pacing the floor in the conference room. A very exhausted looking Foreman sat at the table while Chase made the coffee.

"Who's the patient?" The oh-so-curious wombat asked as he prepared the brew. "It must be someone good if you've gotten out of bed for—"

"Did I ask you to ask me for the patient's life story?" House snapped, giving Chase a withering look.

"Symptoms?" Foreman asked, figuring if they were ever going to get anywhere, he might as well calm the snide remarks.

"Better question. 28 year old female presents with stroke. She'd taken crystal meth, but—"

"So it's a junkie whose drugs caused the stroke. Meth causes increased risk of stroke and apparently this woman had one trip too many," Foreman explained with bored ease. He stood and headed towards the door. "I'm going home. Treat her for the stroke and get her to rehab."

"_Sit down_," House ordered him in a tone that caused both employees to stare at him with mouths agape. "Or else I tell Cameron that you two have been calling her names."

It took Chase a moment to register what House had just said, and when he finally did, he dropped the coffee filter he'd been putting in. "You mean _Cameron's_ the patient?! You can't honestly expect us to believe that _Cameron_ got high!" Chase protested.

"She did tell me that she got busted once for pot when she was a kid," Foreman realized, gaining looks from both House and Chase.

"In any event," House said, bringing the conversation back to the task at hand, "One of my employees – _your colleague_ – had a _stroke_. Hmm…Let's think about that for a minute… A stroke! My that sounds like one of those doctor things! Do you think we'd be good at any of that?" He asked in his usual sarcastic tone. He was hiding the fact that he was truly shaken by the fact that _Cameron_, sweet innocent _Cameron_ was currently downstairs suffering from the after effects of a stroke. He knew he should accept the fact that the stroke's most likely cause was the meth, but he needed to clear all the possibilities before just writing off the stroke.

"Okay, okay…We get it. We need to make sure that the stroke was caused by the meth and not some outside source," Foreman relented. "I'll start the blood workup and get a brain scan."

"Wait…" Chase said, still trying to figure this whole thing out. "How did she get the meth to begin with?"

House rolled his eyes at the kangaroo's stupidity. "The patient… the _other_ patient – the one that coughed blood on her," House explained, feeling as though they were wasting precious time by still simply _talking_ about it. "Now, go and test her for everything you could think of that would cause this 

_besides_ the meth," He ordered his underlings, hoping to be rid of them so he could mull over what had occurred.

Both Chase and Foreman headed towards the door with Foreman leading the way out.

"Just one more thing…" Chase started, gaining a not-so-appreciative look from both House and Foreman. "How did you find out about her condition so fast?"

House didn't look off-guard for a second. "Apparently I'm on her 'In case of emergency, contact…' list," He said without missing a beat. "I guess being her boss _and_ her object of lust finally have paid off," He snarked, as Chase shook his head disgustedly as he walked out, leaving House alone.


End file.
